


Grease

by cjf



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: F/M, Flirting, Fluff, Not Canon Compliant - The Heroes of Olympus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-10
Updated: 2015-05-10
Packaged: 2018-03-29 21:06:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3910693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cjf/pseuds/cjf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rachel usually knows better than to try and interrupt Leo when he's in his workshop, but sometimes she just can't help herself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Grease

**Author's Note:**

> a little ficlet following the prompt "racheleo & grease". I wrote it from Rachel's POV ( mostly. kindasorta. hard habit to break, thanks dwrp ) and I'm not even sure where this lies timeline-wise, but yeah! here's that! fluffy fluff for my rare pair. thanks for reading. c:

Usually when Rachel visits Leo in his workshop, he's in full Work Mode, focused and distracted by whatever's going on in his head all at once. _Usually_ , she just finds a seat somewhere and gets comfy. It's not the fear of getting in his way that keeps her from crowding into his personal space, it's that she actually likes just being a part of the background so she can watch. She's perfectly content to watch him work, because after a while she always ends up feeling inspired to draw. Which drives him nuts when he finds her notebooks later and sees that she's been sketching him and the things he's working on, but usually she can get away with dramatically throwing out words like "but you're my _muse_!" until he's laughing too hard to worry about it. 

He moves fast when he gets his hands on some cool tech, so she sketches the parts of him that leave an impression on her that day - sometimes it's a mess of dark curls ( she does love his curls ) leaning over a mechanical _whatevermajig_ , with more emphasis on his hands or the line of his torso than anything else, and sometimes it's just a silhouette when he's spending a long time in front of the forge. Things like that. Her sketchbook is filled with Leo in Work Mode drawings. 

But today's different, for whatever reason. Today she's feeling impulsive and affectionate and so she's choosing to be _right_ there with him, hopping up to sit on his workbench after only a quick glance to make sure she wasn't about to park her butt on something important. 

She sits there with her legs crossed, hands gripping the edge, foot tapping along to no music at all.

"You've got grease on your nose, hero." 

"-Hmwha?" He looks up, and it's as if he only _just_ noticed she's there, because his eyes catch hers and his face sort of lights up ( genuinely! not literally, thank the gods ), which makes her grin. "Hey, Red."

"Hi."

"You know, I am all about you hanging out here, especially in those shorts-" He pauses to gesture at her legs like they're some magical sight to behold, and she laughs. "-but there's a perfectly good stool right there. Fixed the wobbly leg myself, so I know it works." 

"Mm, I've decided I'm not a fan of the stool today." Simple as that! "But hey, I said you have grease. On your nose. And on your jaw, too."

"So?"

"So, it's cute."

All he does is _blink_ at her, then slowly smirk like that'll make up for the very obvious color rising in his cheeks, and Rachel's pretty sure she'll always find his reactions to her unexpected compliments pretty perfect. They've been doing this for a while now, stolen kisses and Apollo Approved ( somehow, don't ask her how ) snuggling when they get the chance, but he's still always so surprised when she compliments him out of the blue. So she knows better than to wait for a verbal response and keeps going, trying to egg him on. C'mon, keep up, Repair Man ( ManManMan ). She knows he can. They goof around like this all the time. It's just a matter of pulling him out of Work Mode.

"It's not really fair, you know, you walking around here covered in grease and sweat, looking all _serious_ and focused like you do when you're working on something cool. And it's not _only_ because it's absolutely criminal how good you look when you're tinkering, but a girl might start to think she has a reason to be jealous."

"-Really? What, of this?"

He holds up a part of the _whatevermajig_ in question, and Rachel nods, very serious, then oh-so tactfully uncrosses her legs and scoots a little closer to him along the table. It takes him a second, but just as she had hoped, he takes his cue to put the part down somewhere out of the way and moves so that he's right there in front of her, hips bracketed by her knees, his hands moving to brace the table right next to where her fingers are curled against the surface. He's definitely playing along now, suddenly looking dramatic and a little ridiculous, and she _adores_ him for it.

"You have nothing to be jealous of, Rach, I swear. It doesn't mean anything."

"I just don't know!"

She somehow finds it in her to turn her face away from him, letting her shoulders drop with a sigh. "The way you had your hands all over that thing, what else am I supposed to think?"

She looks up at him again through her lashes with a little pout pulling at her bottom lip, which is almost enough to make her laugh, but she keeps it together. If someone walked in and witnessed this, they'd probably think they were borderline nuts, but she doesn't care. Who cares? This is how she flirts with her son of Hephaestus, and as long as he likes it, she's not going to stop.

And it's clear that he does, because soon Leo's leaning in close and Rachel's left with nothing but all that impulsiveness trying to get out, and the sound of her _thumpa-thumpa_ heartbeat in her ears, like she always does when he's in her space. She just wants to brush her nose against his or something, but she can't! Messy boy with his grease smudges. She'll resist, for now.

His voice is quiet when he speaks up again, and her toes curl up in her sneakers.

"You're the only girl I want to get my hands on, I promise. Can I prove it to you?"

"You most definitely can. Should, in fact." She's quick to say it, because yes! Perfect answer! Just what she was hoping for! Good Leo, brilliant Leo. 

But then- 

"Wait. No. _Leo_ -!"

Totally questioning her life choices here because he's lifting his hands and all she can focus on are the dark stains of grease all over his fingers and palms and he knows exactly what he's about to do,

"No, I take it back, keep your hands to yourself, please!" 

Leo's laughing as she tries to squirm off of the table, tries to get away fast, but it's too late. He reaches for her face and pulls her in for a big kiss, palms sliding from her cheeks to her neck and she can _feel it_ , the slide of his palms leaving a mess in their wake. It takes her a long moment, but eventually she stops whining against his mouth, and the temper tantrum subsides, because really, she doesn't mind the mess. She doesn't. Not when it's way more fun to see how long they can make out before Apollo feels like bursting a lightbulb in protest.


End file.
